The Oracle Paths

The sky was getting dark.

The Wilderness had never felt so alien and terrifying. The chirping of birds was gone, as were the howls and growls of animals. All that remained was a heavy, oppressive silence.

Amidst these desolate, pitch-black woods, a long procession of caravans was making its way with the slowness of a snail towards the North, heading with a heavy heart towards their only hope: the Shatug Empire. The land where the Celestial City had taken up residence.

The men and women driving these caravans were typical peasants. Not all of them were human, but all the creatures and aliens present were definitely on the lower end of the social ladder.

Humans, goblins, elves, dwarves, halflings and even more unusual creatures made up this long procession and on each of their faces one could read resignation but also a faint ray of hope. It was this minute hope that gave them the impetus to push forward despite their exhaustion.

This tiny hope rested on the shoulders of only one person.

A Guilty.

Gormer Envalur was a talented Player. An eccentric alien of an almost extinct race. He was barely taller than a goblin, but his build was even larger than that of an adult orc. With his armor on, his huge belly made him look obese, but underneath his chest plate were multiple layers of muscle as hard as concrete.

In contrast, his arms were disproportionately long and thin, with six sets of joints that gave him exceptional mobility. Instead of hands, he had a kind of translucent tuft reminiscent of an old broom, but he could rearrange them at will to give them any shape.

More surprisingly, he had no legs, his rounded belly being in direct contact with the ground. To move around, he had a rotating bust, entirely uncoupled from his skull, functioning like a multidirectional wheel. His arms and head were connected to each other and to this wheel, replacing what could have been an axle.

It was a strange alien but that was not the only reason why these peasants were following it.

Gormer was strong.

But suddenly, in the dead of night, the dirt path they were walking along began to quake, then fissure. A pillar of lava the size of one of their caravans suddenly shot out of the ground with rifle bullet speed, rising right under the vehicle Gormer was driving.

Their esteemed hero... was burnt to a crisp.

A charred alien crashed seconds later into a tree, with only a few HPs left. A dark-skinned giant with a silver mane stood in front of the Player and unapologetically ripped off both his arms and legs, using his own Oracle Device to drain all his liquid alloy and Aether.

"Thank you for your patronage." Gerulf grunted shamelessly.

Gormer gave him a hateful look filled with incomprehension, wondering what he might have done to deserve this, but the huge Kintharian just laughed,

"Don't look at me like that. You didn't do anything wrong. I needed resources and you were easy prey. If you want someone or something to blame, blame your bad luck and stupidity for wanting to play alone when you didn't have the skills. Or blame that Oracle who created those sordid Ordeals that drove us to kill each other. Blame Aurae. Do whatever you want.

"If you want revenge, seek out Gerulf, of the Myrtharian Nerds."

*****

"Psst! Hey, don't make a sound, the Ruins of Daecadia are just over that cliff." A burly man with a look that was half archaeologist, half smuggler, motioned for the mercenaries traveling with him to stop.

For months, they had been wandering through the peat and swamps of this cursed land in search of a legendary treasure, a tale of a divine artifact designed by Aurae. This object, it is said, can bestow invincibility upon its master and his allies. In this context of imminent doom, desperate people tended to give much more credit to these myths and legends.

Especially since after many adventures, these explorers had managed to ascertain that this treasure, or at least the ruins where it was supposed to rest, was not a myth.

With their hearts in their mouths, the mud-covered, disheveled mercenaries waded with renewed motivation through the peat and breathlessly reached the cliff that had been taunting them from afar for many hours. While exploring its surroundings for a while, one of them shouted with joy.

"I found the entrance!"

"HAHAHAhahaha! I knew I wasn't wrong!" The leader of the mercenaries let out a thunderous laugh, tears welling up in his eyes.

"But why do I feel like someone got in before us?" Another mercenary blurted out with concern.

The other mercenaries inspected the entrance to this cave more closely and indeed they discovered that something seemed to have widened it recently. The entrance was wide enough to fit a huge dragon, which seemed insane or this cave would have been discovered much earlier...

Already less confident, the adventurers' boss decided,

"We didn't come all this way for nothing. Even if a monster or a giant beat us to it, if it's still there we'll fight. Without the Codex of Aurae we are doomed all the same so we might as well fight to the death right now."

The faces of the other mercenaries frowned and they nodded grimly. Unsheathing their weapons, together they cautiously rushed into the cave.

As they explored, their faces grew more and more tense and less and less confident.

"What kind of evil could have caused such marks..." One of them gasped in abject horror as he gazed at the deep grooves cut into the rock that corresponded to claws longer than his entire body.

Gulp.

"Don't give up, we're close to the goal! The leader spurred them on, sensing that he was losing the morale of his men.

With his promises of glory and incentives, the mercenaries mustered up their courage and pressed on. An hour later, they reached a large, completely empty room.

"T-this... Is this the treasure you promised us boss?!"

"You bastard, I always said you were a crook!"

Their boss who was being insulted sat dumbly, sporting an ugly face. Where was his treasure?!

In that empty room, there was only one thing. The still warm corpse of a titanic Manticore. Normally, they would have run away without hesitation, but the creature was in no condition to harm them.

Its tail had been ripped off, its legs dismembered, its spine crushed by a sharp bite... Its hybrid chimera body was covered with lacerations belonging to huge claws and this otherworldly creature seemed to have been tortured for a long time, slowly bleeding to death before its enemy deigned to finish it off.

Suddenly, the chief noticed a shiny reflection in a pool of dried blood and he bent down to catch the object. The smell seemed familiar.

"Black hair... from a cat?"

*****

While these kinds of scenarios were being repeated over and over again on Quanoth, Jake, Lucia, Haynt, Asfrid and the Eltarians were preparing for the upcoming migration. Because the clouds and the Mana Storm were blowing north, they had decided to move as well to maximize their chances of success where the clouds were thinner.

Coincidentally, this happened to match the Celestial City's location. The more time passed, the more Jake came to realize that the final clash against Lost Divinity and other competing factions of the same ilk was probably inevitable.

It had been two weeks since Jake revealed his master plan to his allies. Since then, Laudarkvik had changed a lot.

With order restored and the disruptive elements having deserted, perished or joined their cause, the citizens living in fear could at long last leave their homes without worry. When they heard that a Mutant Guilty had claimed the city, they had feared the worst, but now they were grateful.

Because he had given them hope.

It was only rumors at first, spread by the Myrtharian Nerds and the allied factions' underlings. The order to get ready to migrate had been given in advance and enough food to keep them going had been distributed.

No more Vampires were sucking the blood of innocent inhabitants, and the cases of unexplained disappearances had stopped. Crime and cannibalism had fallen to zero, which was attributed to the wiping out of the majority of Werebeings and Undeads.

The depressing and heavy atmosphere had also virtually dissolved when Jake had ordered the purging of all specters and ghosts who refused to submit to his rule. Haynt had already failed to control them, so he had fully supported this measure from the Myrtharian.

By and large, the citizens of Laudarkvik were pleased with their new leader. Respected and influential figures like Aisling, Kenway and Haynt were following him and that was enough for these people. Even if they knew they were going to die, at least their current living conditions were dignified.

Ironically, it was when the apocalypse loomed that they finally stopped living in fear. For that alone, the citizens of Laudarkvik would be eternally grateful.

But this morning, an official announcement was made. At high noon, their new supreme leader Jake Wilderth would make a public statement.